


Seeing Red

by SonicCeleste



Series: The Life of the Moon Guardian [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Obviously the best way to introduce your WoL is to start with sad things, Post-ARR, pre-heavensward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 18:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20999114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicCeleste/pseuds/SonicCeleste
Summary: It’s been a few weeks since “The Bloody Banquet” took place, and Alphinaud is concerned about how the Warrior of Light - No’a Katri - is doing.





	Seeing Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! This is actually the first fic I’ve posted online in like... 7 or 8 years? And my first FFXIV fic - so daunting! Hope you enjoy.

Alphinaud was worried about No’a.

The two of them, along with Tataru, had only recently arrived at Camp Dragonhead, following what had to have been the worst day of their lives. The sultana assassinated, No’a being accused of her murder, Alphinaud being betrayed by the Grand Company he had made with his own two hands, and the Scions being forced to split up to allow the Warrior of Light to escape... Suffice to say, everyone was in a low mood at the least. Alphinaud had moved past his wallowing, determined to make things right to the Scions once again, but he was bothered by the bard’s behaviour.

No’a was a quiet man when he was doing work for the Scions, which Alphinaud supposed was a mix of habit (Keepers of the Moon are wont to hunt at the dead of night) and a desire to keep up a certain appearance as the Warrior of Light - one he very quickly took off when he headed to the nearest tavern when he thought no-one was looking. However, ever since they fled from Ul’dah to Coerthas, No’a had been... silent. The only time you could tell he was there was when he started playing songs, and even then he had started venturing out into the snowy highlands to practice instead. Alphinaud noticed he never looked anyone in the eye anymore, either - the wise brim of his feather-topped hat usually covered his eyes now.

Alphinaud sighed, leaning back in his chair at the intecessory. It worried the boy immensely, but he hadn’t found a good time to ask No’a about it yet - he wondered if there would ever be a good time.

Then, as if the gods themselves had heard him, the door creaked open and in walked the Miqo’te himself, kicking the last of the snow off his boots before silently walking over to the fire and taking a seat in front of it. He didn’t seem to have noticed Alphinaud - or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care. Instead, he picked his harp up from the table and started playing with its strings idly. Alphinaud saw the moment and took it, getting up from his chair and walking around the table to sit a few fulms away from No’a, watching him as he started playing a somber but beautiful melody - Alphinaud recognised it as “Requiem of the Sands”, the song No’a wrote to honour the memory of those lost in the attack at the Waking Sands. Something was definitely on his mind if he was playing that song - and he had been playing it constantly.

Alphinaud cleared his throat to get No’a’s attention. The Miqo’te paused in his playing and turned his head to the boy’s general direction.

“No’a, may I have a word?” Alphinaud asked simply. No’a hesitated for a few seconds before putting down his harp back onto the table and looking patiently back at the Elezen boy. At least, Alphinaud assumed he was looking at him - the hat was tipped low so he couldn’t say for certain.

“... Thank you. No’a, ever since the day of the banquet, I’ve noticed that you’ve become rather... isolated. You’ve barely spoken a word since we arrived here, and while that may not be so unusual to most people, in addition to this you’ve distanced yourself from the others. You refuse to eat or drink anything you haven’t seen made from start to finish, save Haurchefant’s hot cocoa.”

Alphinaud thought carefully before continuing, glancing at the fire next to them.

“I suppose what I’m trying to say is that... While I can’t even begin to imagine what you must be feeling, I know it must be some kind of pain. And, again, while I can’t say I’ve been in your position, I know that it helps to talk about it, if only to get it out. Talking out loud about what happened with the Crystal Braves helped me gather my thoughts on the matter, for instance. So please, No’a, don’t be afraid to talk about what you’re thinking. Even as the Warrior of Light, you mustn’t bottle up your emotions for the sake of keeping up appearances-“

“Red.”

Alphinaud stopped, looking back at No’a with surprise. He spoke. A single word, voice low and broken with disuse, but unmistakably No’a’s voice. The Miqo’te lowered his head, his long blue hair covering his face.

“Her wine... was red. The floors went red. The banquet turned red. Ul’dah turned red. I was... I was seeing red everywhere, even where there wasn’t any...”

Alphinaud kept quiet as No’a’s shoulders started to shake.

“I... I can’t stop seeing red in my mind. I want to move on, to keep going like usual, but all I keep thinking about is all that damn RED, and... and everyone we’ve lost... and what we’ve... become... a-and...”

Quiet sniffling came from under No’a’s deep blue hat as he stopped talking, instead looking towards the fireplace. Alphinaud wasn’t sure what to say - an rare occurrence, but hearing the usually cheerful and unshakeable Warrior of Light so uncharacteristically upset was certainly a shock.

“... I’m sorry, Alphinaud,” No’a mumbled after a while. “Some inspirational hero I am now, right? Saved Eorzea from certain destruction with a bow and arrow, yet here I am crying like a kid. Twelve above, if Mum or Qhita were to see me now...”

He’d never mentioned his family before.

“I don’t think of you any less for talking about your hardships, if that’s what you’re worried about No’a,” Alphinaud quietly interjected, halting No’a’s train of thought as he glanced in his direction again. “Keeping those thoughts of frustration and sorrow inside can lead to all sorts of bad outcomes - seeking blind criminal vengeance for the loss of loved ones, for instance.”

They both fell silent, knowing exactly who they were thinking about in that moment.

“... But back to the topic at hand. No’a, you’re still the exceptionally strong and talented Warrior of Light you’ve been since you destroyed the Ultima Weapon - the man I look up to more and more each day. Speaking freely about how you feel doesn’t change anything about that, and I wish for you to do so more if it would help you. Do you understand?”

The room fell silent again, the fireplace crackling as No’a considered Alphinaud’s words. As the seconds grew longer, anxiety grew. The Elezen boy was expecting No’a to reject his words, to shout in his face about how he could never understand, how this all started because of his silly idea to form his own Grand Company, how a simple child could never run an army...

... It would feel better coming out of someone else’s mouth than in his own head.

“Yeah, alright.”

Alphinaud jumped, startled out of his thoughts by a suddenly cheery voice. “Uh... sorry?”

“I said alright,” No’a said, reaching up and taking off his hat. He looked up at the boy and grinned, ears perking up for what Alphinaud thought must’ve been weeks.

In all honesty, No’a looked terrible. Alphinaud had almost always seen him neat and tidy, always wearing something in that (garish) Rolanberry Red that matched the tattoos on his cheeks, always... fine. But now, with his disheveled hair, clothes that had clearly been worn for more than a few days, heavy circles around his eyes and an exhausted expression, No’a wouldn’t be out of place on the streets of Ul’dah - like he lost everything that mattered to him. He probably had, Alphinaud supposed.

Still, seeing him grin was progress. Even if it was awfully faked, he was... trying. That’s all the boy could wish for in the end.

“Alright,” Alphinaud repeated, nodding and smiling back at the Miqo’te. “Now then, shall we get you something to eat? I’d like to hear more about your family.”


End file.
